


Revelations

by prettylittledarkstar



Series: A Collection of Reylo Shorts [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Broken people, Death and Revival, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Feelings Realization, Force Bond (Star Wars), In Universe, Injury, Reylo - Freeform, angsty af, greylo also, not quite love but there are feelings, there's blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 21:22:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11998224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettylittledarkstar/pseuds/prettylittledarkstar
Summary: "Blessed are the cracked, for they shall let in the light."





	Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: Dust to dust by The Civil Wars is such a Reylo song. (prompt by knights-of-ice-and-fire via tumblr)
> 
> \--hey guys, so I've been doing some reformatting and I've decided to repost each of the shorts i have up as separate stories. sorry if there's a temporary mess on my profile.

“Don’t deny it,” he grunted, and she wanted to scream, wanted to bash his skull in. “Don’t deny the strength you feel from the Dark Side.”

Rey pushed further, harder into him, her filthy hands burying themselves into his chest as she labored to move him away from her.

They stood parallel to each other on the apex of a mountainous cliff, wind whipping and rain thrashing so violently she feared she would fall. Despite the chaos of it all, the sounds were muffled and her ears picked up nothing—nothing but the hum of their bond buzzing, sparking between them. It was a full body sensation, one that creeped to her toes and made her hair stand on end.

She hated it. She hated him for forming it.

(Even though she never dared to admit she was also at fault.)

She hated the closeness, especially thinking back to when, on those lonesome nights in the pitch black desert, she had prayed to the Maker for someone with whom to share herself with. This was not in the slightest what she had expected. To be chained to a monster, a downright beast with nothing but evil in his twisted soul.

“I will forever deny the darkness,” she seethed, her voice affected by the labored breaths she took.

On this horrific, Ahch-Toian cliff they stood—or rather, struggled. Their fight was lengthy, bloody, and violent. If she had found it difficult to battle him on Starkiller Base, this was absolutely impossible. He was stronger than he had been before, as no fresh injury pressed his beginning strength this time. They fought long and hard, hitting, jabbing, twisting, smashing, till blood splattered and tears fell. This deadly waltz they danced hid nothing, as they had screamed and grunted and vomited in any manner they deemed appropriate, their sweat mixing in a way they felt they never could. The Force kept them constant, providing them with the strength enough to fight for an eternity.

And long ago had they destroyed the objects most desirable to them at one point in their lives: their lightsabers, smashed to infinite pieces once the strength of their power mingled, the crackling, fiery proximity of their bond too much for the unstable kyber crystal of Ren’s, causing an explosion to ruin both. Nothing, not even the destruction of precious weapons, however, could stop them.

They grabbed with their hands, grabbed with the force, kicking, biting, yelling.

(Rey had bit him several times, piercing holes through the sleeves of his armored clothes as he pinned her to the muddy ground. How she did it, we may never know. But she drew blood, and upon its metallic tang spilling into her mouth, she unintentionally spit in his face like an animal. Needless to say, their spit swapping fest differed vastly from other couples who pinned each other to the ground.)

In this pulsing moment, Rey felt nothing but rage, a singeing twang that ripped through her chest at the immovable wall that was Kylo Ren. It took so much of her strength to pull her mental barriers up and keep them there, for he had steadfastly pushed on her mind for what felt like hours, slashing the dark tendrils of his mind against her titanium walls, harsh as a whip.

 _You’re scared, Scavenger_ , he shot across their bond, his tone smug yet cautious. Despite his smooth internal tone, he grunted roughly as they wobbled and struggled, each one yearning to defeat the other.

(Well, Rey wanted to defeat him. As for Ren? He wanted her to join him. Neither fought gently for their cause.)

His long, bruising fingers were wrapped around her arms, pressing into her flesh with enough force she thought for sure would crush her bones. She let out a yelp but kept steady, digging her feet into the soft ground and willing that he fall, or move, or do something to prove she wasn’t wasting her last reserve of energy on a hopeless case. The muscles in his chest tightened against her fingers as he pushed back. She snarled and wanted so badly to rip the bond from their minds as she felt his smugness.

But she was spent, long past the brink of total exhaustion. She ran purely off of the Force by now, along with some deep-set, burning desire to crush himand his goddamned ego, her fuel the fiery spirit which kept her alive on Jakku.

Yet suddenly she felt the deepest dragging sensation in her body, as if gravity itself pulled her bones to the very core of the planet, begging her to stop before she killed herself.

But her pride, her soul—it resisted fatigue if only for the fact that she would not see him defeat her.

Rain dripped into her eyes and soaked her clothes, but she had long forgotten any other feeling except the vibration of the bond that seemed to wrap around her ribs and pull her closer, only growing stronger each time she pulled away.

 _I’m not afraid of you_ , she snapped, baring her teeth.

_Then why are you hiding from me, little Rey?_

It suddenly occurred to her to wonder what, exactly, it would be like if she released her mental walls and let him in. However remedial it was, she planned to open her gates for him and use that dumb knockout trick he used on her to turn him off like a light. Trying a new approach, though dangerous, could prove effective, if only for a few hours. So she abruptly released her tight hold on the mental barriers and welcomed whatever awaited her on the other side.

It was approximately half a second of relief from the mental strain before all hell broke loose.

Kylo Ren’s grip loosened on her arms as he was temporarily taken aback by the change of mental scenery. Dark, silken, and inky black, the tendrils of his mind rushed in all at once, like a beast pushing against a door, not believing that it would ever open and taken to residing on the outskirts until one day, it did. The mental impact affected her more than she had anticipated, causing her to stumble backward and fall on her rear. Her bones ached at the impact and her mind screamed in pain, blistered by the unwelcome guest that engulfed her head.

 _Get out_ , she screamed at him, but she could barely hear herself in her own damn head. He continued prodding and poking around, only having respect enough not to waltz his way into her memories as a child scavenger. Everything else he flew past, flipping and shifting and darting around as if he had never been there before.

(This was false. Kylo Ren had built himself a shoebox apartment inside of Rey’s mind, reserved only for him. He stayed there only at night of course, when they slept and every dream they had was consumed by the other. Some dreams were tolerable; others were violent and often involved an angry Rey. During the day, he could find the box shoved into the middle area that connected them. He brought it back every night.)

“I said get out!” she shouted aloud, eyes screwed shut in anguish at his rough probing. She threw a hand towards him blindly, hoping that a force blast would be enough to get him out.

Thankfully, it not only stopped him but pushed him out entirely, the inky blackness of his mind withdrawing to his side in an attempt to get a grip on his balance.

Rey let out a sigh of relief, eyes still closed as her head throbbed. She assumed she had knocked him to the ground, but when she opened her eyes to prepare for his attack, he was no where to be found.

She looked around wildly, whipping her head over both shoulders to see if he had stealthily moved behind her, but she caught no glimpse of him. He couldn’t have disappeared into thin air in mere seconds; it was impossible.

But then she remembered where they were and felt the elastic tug on her chest pulling tighter and tighter with each passing second.

Cliffs kept no one safe.

“No,” she gasped as she scrambled to the edge of the overhang, squinting to see a minuscule splash just beginning to settle below.

“No, no.” Her heart slammed into her chest, the pit of her stomach dropping with the heavy feeling of dread. The only thing that kept her from screaming was the dull, melancholy thrum of Ren’s side of the bond beating in her chest like a second heartbeat, assuring her that he had not died.

It felt odd to compare poetic things to something so vile.

She couldn’t explain her feelings, or her panicked reaction. They just crashed into her like the tumultuous waves of the sea below. It barely registered that she began formulating a plan to rescue him, for it seemed like second nature.

(She wanted him gone; but not dead. Killing never seemed morally sound to her, thus why she couldn’t let him die at her hands.)

Frustrated with herself, Rey turned and rushed down the hill, scaling each boulder as she practically flew to the bottom of the mountainous island, paying no mind to the pull of fatigue. Instead, she focused on her fear. What scared her more than anything was not the risk of falling; it was the silence from Kylo Ren. Over the past six months they had nagged each other; Ren sending her lewd thoughts and violent imaginary visions of her friends getting brutally murdered; and Rey, shoving him away, sometimes accidentally leaving her thoughts to bleed onto his side, never engaging on purpose. It was quite obnoxious to share her mind with another, but the silence ringing in her head terrified her to no end.

And she cursed herself as she made it to the bottom, scanning the water frantically to find any sight of him. Dark waves sloshed against the rocks violently, a spray coming up and dusting her with salty drops; the sea was even rougher from the storm that crashed above her, which reduced her visibility exponentially.

A deep-set panic sunk into her. She would have to go in. She had to go in.

But she couldn’t swim.

But he was drowning. Nothing but a mere whisper of him came to her, something dull and dying fast, and it scared her that she felt no panic from him, no sign that he was still fighting. She tried tugging at their bond, just sending a ripple through, but nothing came back. The thought that he died on impact made her want to vomit.

There was no other choice but to find him. So, without preparation, she dived in.

Down, down, down.

Into the chaotic sea she fell, and it was nothing she had ever known before. The water felt like silk between her fingers, yet it stung her wounds, making her feel as if she were being cut with tiny knives. It moved with a current strong enough to slam her into the rocks nearby, and if not for the Force cushion she protected herself with, it would have snapped her neck. She thrashed about like a drowning kitten, trying to pull herself to the surface but the current was so strong, too powerful for her weakened frame. She was fearful of the water yet so determined to breathe, her lungs already screaming for air and her limbs begging her to stop, but she scanned the dark waters around her for any sign of him. What she couldn’t see she made up for with what she felt. Pushing aside her absolute terror, she focused on nothing but the Force, stretching her senses out in the rocky waters to find Kylo Ren’s Force signature.

She found him not far from where she had jumped in, but his energy was barely distinguishable from the other life forms that pulsed around her.

When she reached him, he looked almost unrecognizable through the watery filter separating them. But it was him, with his dark hair fanned out and his arms suspended above him, the dark fabric of his clothes tangled and drifting with the shift of the water.

Despite her lungs begging her for air, Rey awkwardly kicked her way to him with untrained legs. One of his steel toed boots was caught in between rocks, but once she pulled enough she managed to wiggle him out. The force of the release brought them up a few feet, but not enough. So she closed her eyes, felt the wavering conditions around her, and drew from the Force, using a swift jump in the water to propel them upward. When she reached the surface she coughed and spluttered, finding that her weight and Ren’s combined were too much for her to keep afloat so her head bobbed beneath the surface multiple times before she could get a grip on her surroundings. She wasn’t far from shore, but it felt like hours before she reached it.

Her hair clung to her face as she dragged him to a nearby cave away from the danger of the water, the rocky ground causing her to slip and nearly fall multiple times before she got there.

She fell to her knees before his still figure, shaky hands searching for a pulse. When she found none, hot, angry tears brimmed her eyes and fell upon his cold, graying face as she furiously blinked them away.

In a brash attempt to save him, Rey drew a rusted skill from a long lost memory and attempted to resuscitate him.

(And how does she know CPR? Scavengers have to at least know the basics of lifesaving.)

“Come on, please don’t—Please,” she begged his seemingly lifeless form as she jammed her palms into his chest over and over, eventually resolving to mouth-to-mouth, her wet lips touching his as she attempted to breathe life back into him.

Seconds, minutes passed as she kept on, biting her lip to keep from sobbing aloud until a small voice inside of her told her he wasn’t coming back. The silence from his side of their bond overwhelmed her, and the place where they connected was dead and mangled. It was then that she withdrew from her attempts and rested her head over his chest, crossing her arms above her head in defeat.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to him through shaky breaths. She had often dreamed of the day she would get to fight Kylo Ren to end it once and for all. But she never intended for this to happen. “In another lifetime, we won’t have to fight.”

When did she become this monster she feared? The universe often seemed mysterious and magical; but to Rey, all that ever happened was cruel. And now, it seemed, she met her maker, became what she feared most: a reaper of death and violence.

Kylo Ren fell at the hands of a girl who vowed to never incite hatred or death upon others, a girl who was just that: a girl; young and living a life in which fate dealt her a tricky hand, testing her, pushing her to her limit. She had reached her limit.

And yet, as she reached the brink of her very will to live, a tiny, barely-there spark flew from Ren’s side of the bond, so minuscule that Rey thought she imagined it. But then it happened again, this time stronger.

She shot up and stared at his unmoving face, not daring to get her hopes up.

But when he jerked his body and rolled to the side to loudly, painfully cough up a gallon of water, she couldn’t help the rush she felt. Her shaking hands flew to his face and she wiped away the stray hair that obstructed his eyes, brushing off the sheen of sweat that had formed on his cold face.

He stared up at her and blinked wildly, still coughing up a storm. Then he hoarsely spoke, “You dived into the water to save me. Did hell freeze over too?”

“I see through you,“ she panted, blinking the tears away from her eyes and disregarding his words, “I see through it all. I see through the stupid mask you wear. I feel it. I know you feel it, too, Ben.” She let the name of a dead man slip past her lips, and she knew not whether it was the habit she formed from hearing Luke call him that or something else, something desperate. The weight of their shock rippled through her, just enough to make her backtrack, but she decided to keep going.

“It is a cruel, cruel life we have lived, Ben Solo,” she said, her voice shaky and barely above a whisper, her lips trembling as she realized that the two of them weren’t so different after all. How tragic, that two creatures made of the same chemical makeup, neglected in the same way, could end up on opposite sides of a war in which they strove to kill each other for.

She wanted to sob at the revelation. Sure, she learned of Ben Solo and his adolescence, but never had she related his situation to hers because she had only focused on the details of his violence, overlooking what may have caused the problem and instead blaming him for everything.

“I am tired of forcing myself to choose a side. I don’t want to. The light and the dark, they put me in a box I don’t belong in. I don’t know what I am and I’m tired of it,” she croaked, hating that she was confessing such a weakness to him. But it somehow felt right, so she couldn't—wouldn't—stop. “There has to be someway else. A place with no light and dark. Can we fix the universe somehow?”

“I’m nothing but broken. A cracked mess. You’ll have to fix me first, Scavenger.”

Exhausted, she allowed herself to drop down flat beside him. A feeling of mutual peace hummed between them, and she now found that the company in her mind was nothing of a nuisance. The moment she laid down, fatigue overcame her, and her eyes drooped. She felt her slowing pulse in every part of her body. There’s only so much a body can take. But she had no time for it.

“You won’t need fixed. Know what they say about things that are cracked?” she whispered to him drowsily with the tiniest smile that shined through her tears. Confusion flared from his side of the bond and so she said:

“They let the light in.”

Something new and unrecognizable flickered across their bond, a sensation that surprisingly emanated from both of them. Something not quite warm, yet not harsh and cold either. It felt neutral, grey.

Perhaps it was a shift in their opinion of each other. Or perhaps it’s just what they were, what they were always meant to be:

Balanced.

**Author's Note:**

> from 7-15-17 ~~~~ tell me what you think! <3
> 
> xx anya


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